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"Yes, something like that." Suddenly Kay sounded weary.
Jarrow slumped back in the chair. "So Rita's right? I am really Demiro, just
suffering from the delusion of being Jarrow?"
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Kay sighed. "I don't know if that's the right way to put it," she said,
endeavoring to soften the impact. "After all, what is a person? If a
personality is defined by a dynamic configuration of neural activity, then
you're Richard Jarrow. Is there more of Demiro underneath as well, somewhere?
We have no way of knowing. And what about those strange manifestations of an
alter ego that you say have happened twice now? Rita says that Tony Demiro was
nothing like that. All we can conclude is that more went on at Pearse than
we're able to account for right now."
It didn't help Jarrow's discomfort. From outside there came the sound of a
vehicle pulling up in the driveway. He looked away for a moment as footsteps
sounded, -going around to the side door of the house. Josef came down from
upstairs and went through into the kitchen. They heard the back door open and
close, and then voices talking -indistinctly.
Jarrow faced back toward Kay. "What I don't understand about it all is why I
find nothing abnormal in my appearance," he said. "If I think I'm Jarrow, but
physically this is Demiro,then why don't I see any clash?"
"I've been wondering about that too," Kay admitted. "It's impossible to be
certain. There's never been a case like this before."
"But you do have an idea?" Jarrow persisted. "You said you were involved with
similar work Offworld on Luna with this what was his name, the
Russian? Ulkanov."
"Well, possibly. . . . This is all very crude and speculative, you
understand. But basically, it's pretty established these days that the mind
contains two distinct operating levels. First, there's what we call the 'data'
level, which processes fact-based information handled by the intellectual
faculties: all the things that you 'know' and remember as representative of
the real world. Then, below that, is the 'associative' level, which contains
the structures and relationships that are invoked unconsciously by the
operations of those faculties."
It made a sort of sense. Jarrow nodded for her to continue.
"Okay. Well, what I suspect is that the patterns that Ashling's process
implants only modify the recipient's neurochemical structure at the data
level. That would mean, for example, that your intellectual personality knows
-itself to be Richard Jarrow, and remembers factually related details that
come with that knowledge for example, that Jarrow is forty-six and has a
mustache." Jarrow nodded again. Kay went on, "But the associative-level
correlates have remained unaltered. So when the data-level Jarrow reaches
down, as it were, to access the deeper associative substrate supporting that
identity, the pictures that are returned to consciousness derive from the
associative level of Demiro. That's why you're unable to recall any visual
images other than the younger, darker -complexioned, clean-shaven face that
you see in the mirror, and you find nothing amiss."
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Jarrow swallowed visibly. "So there's no question, then. . . . The person who
was originally me . . ." He couldn't finish it. But it really didn't need
saying.
Then he realized that Josef was at the kitchen door and had been listening to
the tail end of the conversation. He came forward into the room and was
followed by the new arrival, wearing a hooded, red overjacket on top of a
white sweater. He was tall, bronzed, and athletically built, with curly blond
hair and clear eyes. Whereas, previously, Jarrow had classed Josef as "leader"
among the group at the house, the presence that the newcomer brought into the
room was commanding. Here, he knew at once, instinctively, was the person who
would produce a decision on where they went next.
Kay obviously knew him and was about to say something, but he raised a hand.
"No, that's all right. Please carry on."
Kay looked at Jarrow again. "Can there really be any doubt? The records that
you saw in Minneapolis are about as conclusive as you can get." She hesitated.
"We can see what must have happened. You used to see Valdheim about once a
month, yes? Your last recollection is from the visit on April third.
Everything was normal. Those must have been the occasions when Valdheim
obtained the implants to send down to Pearse. But the visit on April third
turned out to be the last, when Jarrow died unexpectedly from a stroke on May
fifth corresponding to a time about six months into the program at Pearse,
which had begun in earnest the previous October.
"Then something went wrong down at Pearse, and Demiro was overwritten with an
entire transplant of the Jarrow identity at its data level. To cover up what
had been going on and prevent awkward questions being asked, Demiro was
officially eliminated from the picture."
And Demiro, in effect, became Jarrow. There was no point in trying to deny it
any longer. Jarrow exhaled a heavy sigh. Kay showed an empty palm, indicating
that there was nothing more she could say.
"But this is November," Jarrow said. "Demiro was listed as killed in June. So
what's been happening in these last five months? Where do Samurai and Gordon
come into it?"
Josef spoke for the first time since entering the room. "We don't know. But
we need to find out. Furthermore, what connection did it have with Ashling and
his disappearance?"
"And we think that you, Mr. Jarrow, can enable us to find the answers to both
questions," the newcomer said.
Kay motioned toward him as he came forward to look down at where Jarrow was
sitting. "Richard, this is Scipio, another of our team."
Jarrow nodded in acknowledgment, but was too startled by the statement to let
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it go just then. "Me?" he said uncomprehendingly. "How can I help?"
"From the inside," Scipio replied. "Where none of us can penetrate. But
that's where the answers are, and only you can get there."
Jarrow's bewilderment only increased further. "How?" he asked again. "What do
you want me to do?"
"We want you to let the FSS agents who are looking for you find you, and go
back to Pearse with them as Samurai," Scipio said. "Which shouldn't be too
difficult to accomplish. After all, that's who they seem to think you are."
Jarrow looked from one to another of them in sudden alarm. "Now wait a
minute. Whatever else you or those people at Pearse may think, I'm a
schoolteacher. I don't know anything about what Samurai was doing. I couldn't
hope to pass myself off as him. I wouldn't last five minutes."
Scipio sat down on an arm of one of the chairs and gazed at him intently. "It
mightn't be as bad as you assume. Think about it for a minute. The people at
Pearse were tampering with minds, and they know that something strange
happened in Demiro's case. They know that he was acting unstably in Chicago.
They won't know what to expect next. They'll be prepared for anything. You go
in pleading amnesia, confusion, reversion to past personality types whatever
suits the situation. I think there's a good chance of pulling it off. You're
the key to uncovering what's been going on in this whole business."
What Scipio was saying carried an implication that their problem was
automatically Jarrow's problem, and that they all saw things from the same [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]